Flesh & Bone
by umuhh
Summary: After Clary's brother goes missing, the search takes her to the lonely town of Alicante. She meets up with some amateur ghost hunters, Jace, Isabelle, and Alec, and joins forces with them to discover the chilling secrets of the haunted town. Horror AU/AH. Romance, gore, etc. Clace, Sizzy, Malec.
1. Chapter 1 - Missing

_Disclaimer - yep, characters and the book series belong to Cassandra Clare._

* * *

Chapter One – Missing

There was a bang from downstairs, and Clary woke up with a start. She sat up in bed, holding her head. There was an aching throb behind her temples, and her breathing was slow from sleep. It took her a bleary moment to realize that had been the sound of the front door slamming shut. She looked at the clock—it was just creeping past seven.

It had to be Jonathan. Her mother wasn't supposed to be home until Sunday night. So, he was getting home late again. But when had he left? She'd fallen asleep with her sketch book open in front of her and must have missed him.

Clary pulled herself out of bed, and stumbled barefoot toward the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes and pushed tangles of red hair out of her face. The hallway floorboards creaked under her feet, and they made her bare toes cold. The sun was just beginning to set, sending sideways orange beams through the windows.

"Jon?" she croaked, and peered around the corner.

The kitchen was empty.

"Jonathan?" she looked around. She looked around the other rooms—all empty. There was no way she could have missed him going downstairs. She realized with a sinking feeling that he had probably left. That made a lot more sense the more she woke up. She rubbed her eyes—she was way too tired for this.

She wandered back into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water before heading back to bed. A single sheet of lined paper caught her eye, and she stopped. The table was cleared except for the lone note. She frowned. The kitchen table was usually cluttered with her mother's art supplies, discarded mail, and random bits of paper. All of that was sitting on the floor around the table. All that was left was the piece of paper.

Written on it in sharpie was a message in Jonathan's handwriting: "_I've gone to Alicante."_

Clary stared at the table, eyes blurry. She shook her head and lowered herself into a chair. She put her face in her hands and stared at the note through the cracks in her fingers. He had to be kidding. He had to be.

He probably wasn't.

He was _obsessed_. She knew everything about that tiny town in the middle of nowhere. She knew the route to get to there and how long it would take. Five hours without pit stops, if you took the highway. She knew that it was called Alicante after the southern city in Spain by the original settlers. She knew that they were well known for their farming, and beautiful orchards, and the apples that they sold in nearby markets. She knew about a horrible murder that happened there fifteen years earlier, which had brought the town some morbid fame. She didn't want to know all that, but Jonathan had told her. He was _that_ obsessed.

She pushed herself out of her chair and ran up to his room. His closet stood open, empty except for the hooks. One of his drawers was pulled out of his dresser and empty. She leaned against the door frame and tried to take a deep breath. She could feel anxiety creeping in, making her dizzy. She wandered to the bathroom and discovered that his toothbrush was gone too. He had to have his wallet. And probably his phone.

His phone! She scrambled to her room and snatched up her cellphone off her nightstand, nearly knocking off a tin can full of paintbrushes and muddy water. She called him.

The sound of his phone going off in the room across the hall made her jump. She hung up.

"You're kidding me," she pushed her hair back again, shoulders drooping. This was seriously freaking her out. She called him again just to make sure. His phone keened from his bedroom. She hung up, dismayed.

How could he do something so reckless and stupid? Why did he have to go sneaking off while Clary was asleep, while their mother was out of town? She knew the answer. Her mother would never had let him go, especially not on his own. He had to finish school and keep his grades up or he was going to flunk out. He couldn't go running off some crazy road trip.

_Why didn't he tell me?_ That was what hurt the most, she realized. They weren't the closest siblings ever, but... She told _him_ when she snuck out to see Simon's band play late.

She still felt dizzy and it wasn't going to go away. She stared at her phone, and thought about calling her mom. As freaked out as Clary was, she knew that Jocelyn would be much worse. She'd already made it a rule that Jonathan wasn't allowed to talk about Alicante anymore—at least not in front of her. She had practically bitten his head off the last time he'd brought it up at dinner. Clary didn't want to cause her mother any more stress, not with her gone to her first big art show.

It was crazy, but she thought maybe she could find Jonathan and bring him back in time... Their mom wasn't going to come back until Sunday night after all. That gave her a little under two days—she could get to Alicante and drag Jonathan back kicking and screaming before their mom got back from her show. It was crazy, sure, but Jonathan was crazier. Who knew what he would do unsupervised?

She ran down to the door leading out to the garage. She threw the door open. The car was gone. Her heart sunk. Of course the car was gone. How had she expected him to do anything else but take the car?

She let out a long sigh and backed into the hallway. She let the door swing shut and leaned against the wall. She slowly slid down to the floor and sat.

"What am I going to do?" she murmured, tucking her knees up to her chest, "Dammit, Jon."

She rested her head on her knees for a while. Sitting there, close to tears, an idea struck her. She took out her phone and started dialling.

"Hello?" Simon muttered on the other end. He sounded distracted and she could hear a video game soundtrack playing in the background.

"Simon," she said, trying to sound light, "Are you up for an impromptu road trip?"

He was quiet, and Clary worried that the phone had gone dead.

"Simon?"

"Why?" He sounded like he'd just snapped out of a trance. She bit her lip, wanting him to just pay attention to her instead of his stupid game. She was in the middle of a crisis. She needed her best friend.

"I need to go to Alicante," she said, "and I need your car."

"That place your brother keeps talking about? Did he run off or something?"

She took in a breath but the words didn't come out. Just a creak caught in her throat.

"Oh..." Simon said after a pause, "Sorry."

"I'm worried about him," she forced her voice not to crack. "You know him. He'll probably crash the car into a ditch _on purpose,_ and then start a fight with anyone who tries to help him out. I just—"

"It's okay. Calm down, Fray," Simon said hurriedly, "I'll come over. We'll find him."

"You don't have to..." she muttered.

"No, I'll come. Just give me forty-five minutes. I've got to pack if we're going on a road trip... And figure out something to tell my mom."

"Just tell her I had an emergency. Your mom likes me right?" She sniffled a little and gave a halfhearted smile. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

"Yeah," Simon chuckled, "I'll be there soon."

He hung up, and it took her a moment to get on her feet again. She smiled a little, as much as she tried to push it down. She went and hurriedly combed her hair and packed a bag of essentials. She took the note Jonathan left and threw it in the trash. Her mom never had to know.

* * *

Isabelle opened her door and turned to her brothers, "Okay, what do you guys want?"

Jace and Alec looked at each other.

"I don't know," Jace said, "Fruit?"

"Like what?" Isabelle narrowed her eyes at him.

"Mangos," Jace said with all the confidence in the world.

"Your opinion doesn't count anymore," she turned toward the back seat, where Alec was fiddling with his camera equipment, "What should we get?"

Alec shrugged, "Chips, veggies, candy, maybe some soda. Definitely water bottles. I brought the kettle and the instant coffee so we're good there. Some ramen noodles in case we can't find a good place to eat..."

"See," Isabelle looked pointedly at Jace, "Efficient."

"Anal retentive," Jace corrected, smirking.

Alec shot him an annoyed look and Isabelle laughed. She ducked out of the car and walked off through the parking lot toward the grocery store, heels clacking against the pavement.

Jace turned to Alec, shifting around in seat to get comfortable. "How's it going back there? I didn't break the damn thing, did I?"

"I just wanted to keep it all clean," Alec said, still fiddling. "This was expensive. You should have just used your phone if you were going to shake it and run around."

"The worst I left were fingerprints, and my fingerprints are works of art," Jace smiled sweetly.

Alec glanced up at him, scowling. "I hope we get some good footage. Otherwise, I don't want to go out 'ghost' hunting ever again."

"Well," Jace said, leaning his back against the door and propping his feet up on the driver seat, "the last place we went to wasn't very haunted. It was more just infested with vagrants and junkies. At least it was a little bit thrilling. It made for a great crack-head chase scene."

"I still say that doing a documentary on the homeless would be a much better project than _ghost hunting_."

Jace shrugged, "We'll do it afterwards. What's wrong with having some fun with film?"

"A documentary would be fun," Alec looked up again.

Jace just shook his head, giving a patronizing coo.

Alec rolled his eyes, "We should be helping people."

"We're helping the dead," Jace said. He made a flourish with his hands, "Helping them rise to fame."

Isabelle returned shortly with a cart full of snacks. She dumped them onto Jace through the window, and he made sure to throw them over his shoulder at Alec, who spluttered and cursed the whole way through.

Isabelle jumped into the drivers seat, whooping. She started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, Jace laughing and Alec loudly protesting for her to slow down.

"Alicante, here we come!" she shouted, laughing gleefully.

* * *

Clary and Simon stopped at a gas station before venturing out onto the highway. He filled up the tank while she bought the snacks and paid for the gas. She grabbed some candy and a few bags of popcorn. They agreed that the first thing they were going to do once they got to Alicante was find a hotel and sleep. Despite her extensive knowledge of Alicante, Clary had no idea if they had a hotel. They probably at least had a quaint little bed and breakfast.

She returned to the car, and threw the snacks into the back, and sat in the passengers seat next to Simon. He gave her one of those looks, like he was checking up on her. She gave him a weak smile in return.

"You're really worried," he said once they were on the road.

"Yeah," she said, nervously picking at a hole in her jeans. She focused ahead of her at the road as it flew by beneath them.

"You know that he's a capable guy, right? He can fend for himself just fine."

"I don't know," Clary shrugged. "He's chaotic. He'll get himself into trouble. And Mom's gonna kill us both."

Simon nodded solemnly. "All good points. But we're gonna find him. I mean, it's not like he didn't leave a huge, super obvious trail. Maybe he wants to be found. Maybe this is all just a big cry for help."

Clary gave Simon a sideways look, "A cry for help from what?"

"Maybe he's being bullied at school," Simon shrugged.

Clary snorted, "Yeah no, no one's going to bully Jon. He can get kind of nuts when provoked."

"Maybe he's looking for a fresh start," Simon shrugged again.

She nodded. Maybe he was... But why would he need a fresh start? What was driving him away? She sighed heavily.

"Mind if I sleep?" she asked. It was dark, the car was comfy, and she was still a bit sleepy from her nap.

"Not if you don't want us to crash. I'll fall asleep too. I need you to entertain me. Dance, monkey, dance!"

Clary smiled despite herself. She slumped down in her seat and looked out her window. "Okay, what about a game of I-Spy?"

"Sounds good," Simon said, "I'll start. I spy with my little eye, something that is yellow."

"Is it the lines on the road?" Clary looked over at him, smirking.

"Clever girl," he grinned. He glanced over at her for a quick second.

"My turn. I spy with my little eye, something purple."

"The sky?" Simon said.

"Yep."

"Well this is getting boringly easy," he sighed.

"Yep."

They sat in silence for a long time, just staring at the road ahead of them.

"You're not allowed to fall asleep on me, Fray," Simon said, and Clary snapped awake. She hadn't realized she'd been dozing.

"Sorry," she said, but Simon just shrugged it off.

"Pass the twizzlers?" he said, holding out a hand but keeping his eyes on the road.

"Sure," Clary turned around and reached over to the back seat. She returned with the twizzlers and handed him a few. Simon gnawed on them absently.

"So twizzle me this, Batman," he said. "Why is Jonathan so obsessed with Alicante?"

"I don't know," she said. She had probably asked him dozens of times, mostly trying to get him to shut up about it. "He just thinks about it a lot. I don't know how he heard about it but... He said he has dreams about it sometimes."

"Maybe he really likes apples," Simon offered.

"I guess so," Clary said.

She leaned back in her seat again. It was going to be a long few hours before they got to Alicante. She wasn't sure what she was going to find there. Despite Simon's attempts at keeping her awake, Clary drifted off as they got into the last few hours stretch. She dreamed of white, hollow eyes staring at her from the shadows. Waiting.

* * *

_Author Note: So there's chapter one. I started writing this way back in October when I was on one of my horror game kicks and I've just picked up working on it again. Hope this is enjoyable. Chapter two will be coming around soon. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2 - Everyone Together

Chapter Two – Everyone Together

Clary was once again woken up with a bang. She jerked up and her seat belt slammed against her chest. She coughed and squinted around. The road in front of her veered from side to side momentarily, and panic made it hard to breathe. It felt like they were going to fly off into the ditch.

"Sorry, sorry," Simon grunted, struggling to keep the wheel from going out of control. "I think a tire blew."

He managed to pull the car over to the shoulder, gravel crunching underneath them. He slowed down until the car stopped. He leaned back in his seat and heaved a sigh. He frowned over at Clary, looking as wide eyed and panicked as she felt. He was breathing heavily, and Clary realized that she was as well.

"I'm going to go check that," Simon said once the shock wore off. He turned the car off and hopped out. Clary followed.

The night was chilly, but bearable, the sky a hazy violet-blue. The stars stared down at Clary, blinking wearily. Without the starlight, it would have been completely black out. Clary checked over her shoulder at the stretching fields and flat land around them. There wasn't any life in sight. She rounded the car to Simon's side.

Simon was sitting on his haunches beside the tire, rubbing his hands through his dark hair. Clary swore. The tire was shredded. She had no idea what they had driven over, but it had reduced the thick rubber to ribbons.

"Great," Simon said, smacking his palms against his jeans. "Just great. We're in the middle of nowhere and we lose a tire."

"Don't you have a spare?" she asked.

"Maybe. Probably not." Simon went past her and opened the trunk. He swore and kicked the bumper, his hands in his hair again.

"What?" She gave him a look. This was insane. There _had_ to be a spare tire.

"We're stuck here." He groaned. She realized how exhausted and frazzled he looked behind his thick glasses.

"Let me see," she pushed him over and tore through the trunk. There wasn't much in it, besides a blanket, an ice scraper, and a plastic jug of windshield wiper fluid. "No. Where is it?"

"There's no spare, Clary," Simon said.

"We can drive on a flat right?" she turned to him.

He blinked at her, "It's _shreded,_ Clary."

"No, we can get there," she said. "We have to."

"We need to call a tow truck." Simon said, pulling out his phone. He started dialling, and then stopped dead. "You've got to be kidding me."

"No," Clary yanked her phone out of her pocket and looked for the tiny bars in the corner of the screen. There were none. She tried dialling the number in her contacts, and held it to her ear. No reception. She tried again, and again and again. Nothing. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"Calm down, okay?" Simon didn't look up from his phone.

"There's got to be a service station near here," Clary said, looking down the road ahead of them. She couldn't see very far, the road disappeared into the dark.

"The last one we passed was hours ago," Simon sighed.

"So the next one should be soon," Clary said. "Come on, we need to start walking. Right now."

Simon looked like he was going to protest, but Clary fixed him with a look.

"I have to find Jonathan." She snapped. He looked shocked for a moment, and Clary regretted being so harsh. She gripped her arms tightly. She realized she was shaking, and she wasn't sure it was because of the cold.

"I know," Simon said in a soft voice, after a long pause. "We'll get to Alicante, and we'll find your brother... but we've gotta deal with this first."

She let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Yeah..."

"We can walk for a bit and see if we can find a service station, and if we don't find one, we can walk back to the last one." Simon stared down the road, "Maybe we can get some cell reception."

She nodded. Simon shut the trunk of his car and locked the doors. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and they started walking. It was nice to get a hug, especially one with the familiarity and warmth of her best friend. Her nerves were shot, and she was exhausted. She just wanted Jonathan to be okay.

They didn't make it ten steps away from the car, when the noise of an engine reached their ears. Their shadows creeped up front of them, caught in the glare of headlights. Clary turned to see what was coming.

A dark painted car creeped up beside them. They stepped away from it, and Clary felt his arm curl protectively around her waist. The window of the passenger side rolled down and a guy with lush, golden hair peered out at them.

"You guys okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Clary piped up before Simon could. "We got a flat."

"Looks like it," he said, craning his neck to see back at their car. He grinned, friendly and cool, "There was some stuff on the road earlier, we narrowly missed it. Do you need some help?"

Clary could feel how tense Simon was against her side. She nodded, "We need to call a tow, but there's no reception out here."

"We could also use a spare tire," Simon added.

"No doubt," the blond guy said. "I don't think we have any spares, but... Do you need a lift to the nearest gas station? There's room in the back."

"We're fine," Simon said before Clary could answer. "Thanks for the offer."

Clary frowned at him. "What? We need their help," she whispered.

"We don't know him," Simon hissed back, shooting the blond guy a glare.

"I can hear you," the guy said, looking smug. Clary blushed, embarrassed enough for both her and Simon.

"Sorry. We'd love a ride." she said.

"Great, hop in," he said. He looked over his shoulder into the car and said, "Alec, move over. We're helping people, just like you wanted."

Clary heard some muttering from inside the car and the sound of shuffling. The blond guy turned back to them, "Hop in."

"I'm not leaving my car here," Simon said.

Clary gave him another look, "You were okay with it a minute ago."

Simon opened his mouth to say something, but she didn't give him the chance. She pulled open the door to the back seat and got in. She gave Simon a pointed look. He stood there, by the side of the road, looking flabbergasted for a moment. Then he shut his mouth and marched over. Clary scooted over to the centre of the seat and let Simon sit down beside her. He hesitated before closing the door.

Clary turned to see a guy with dark hair sitting beside her, a camera held protectively against his chest. He gave her an awkward look that might have been an attempt at a smile.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Clary."

"Alec," he said.

"I'm Jace," the blond guy turned in his seat to look back at them. He was still grinning, suave and friendly. Even in the dim light, Clary could see how handsome he was—his features were nearly perfect. A pretty girl with dark, long hair turned her head and smiled at them, before starting to drive. "And this is Isabelle."

Clary nudged Simon, who was staring uncomfortably at the seat in front of him. He grumbled his name.

She smiled at Jace. "Thanks so much for picking us up. We were completely stranded."

Jace nodded, "We're happy to aid such lovely damsels in distress."

Simon scowled at him and Clary nearly joined him. She didn't like being called a damsel in distress. She swallowed back her frown and nodded. "Well, thanks. I just hope the service station's close."

"Me too," grumbled Alec beside her. She glanced at him and saw that he was staring intently out the window at the dark sky.

"Where are you two headed?" Isabelle asked, glancing at them from the rear view mirror.

"This little town called Alicante," Clary said. "I'm trying to find my brother."

She didn't feel like she needed to keep secrets from these people. They looked to be about the same age as her and Simon, and the seemed friendly enough. She just felt comfortable around them.

"Alicante? You don't say," Jace grinned over at Isabelle, then back at Clary. "That's where we're headed."

"You are?" she asked. "Why?"

"We're doing a documentary," Isabelle jumped in. "Alicante is supposed to be haunted, so we're going to see if we can catch some footage."

Clary frowned. "Haunted." Jonathan had never said anything about ghosts. "You're sure you're thinking of the right place?"

"Yeah, of course," Isabelle brushed her hair over her shoulder. "I do thorough research."

"You mean I do," Alec huffed.

"I do research too," she shot him a look.

"Oh," Clary decided to just smile politely. "Cool."

She shared a strange look with Simon.

"There's the service station," Jace said, pointing across the dashboard.

Isabelle pulled over and Simon eagerly hopped out.

He helped Clary out and wiggled his fingers at the three teenagers, "Thanks for your help, but we'll be fine from here."

"We can wait here in case you don't get any help." Jace said.

"We'll get help," Simon assured him, sounding more snarky than Clary had ever heard him.

Simon was a pretty easy going guy, she'd never seen him act like such a meat-head before. Was it because of that Jace guy? He seemed like a bit of one of those pretty boy jerks, she had to admit, but they'd only just met him. And he'd helped them when they were broken down at the side of the road. How bad could he be? And none of them, Jace, Alec or Isabelle, were sketchy—in fact they seemed pretty nice. A little weird with the whole ghost thing, but nice.

Simon slammed the door and took Clary by the hand. He led her across the street to the small service station. It had a gas pump out front, but it wasn't like any Clary had seen in the city. It looked like something out of the 1950s, and it was covered in rust and chipped red paint. The station was made of wood, and painted a dull white. It looked grey in the dark, and pretty run down. None of the lights were on inside, the windows dull, and dark, and dusty.

Simon tried the door, and Clary went over to the nearest window to peer in. She wiped away some of the dust and tried again. She couldn't see anything but her own ghostly reflection, peering back at her.

"Hello?" Simon asked, pounding his fist on the door. "Is anyone there? We need some help."

Clary couldn't see any movement inside. She joined Simon at the door and knocked.

They must have stood there, knocking and calling for fifteen minutes. Eventually, they heard the sound a car door opening and closing behind them. Clary turned to see Jace walking toward the station.

"No answer?"

"Nope," she said. "I think everyone's gone home... Or they're asleep, I don't know."

"It is pretty early in the morning," Jace agreed. He knocked and cupped his hands around his mouth, "Hey! There's a cute girl in a tiny t-shirt out here who needs some help! Hello!"

Clary's face went red and she wanted to smack him. Her t-shirt was not tiny.

Jace shook his head, and tried the door. It was firmly locked. "I don't think anyone's here."

"Maybe they have a payphone," Simon said quickly, "C'mon Clary."

"I don't think they do," she said. She looked between Simon and Jace. Her glance lingered on Jace and he grinned at her.

"You guys can ride with us," he said. "There should be help in Alicante. They can sent a tow down in the morning to get your car."

"Okay," Clary said eagerly. As long as she got to Alicante, she was happy.

"What if something happens to my car in the meantime?" Simon said, his arms folded across his chest.

"We can go back and get your stuff," Jace said, shrugging. "Or you can sit out in your car until someone finds you in the morning."

"I'd rather do that, thanks," Simon said.

Clary looked at him, desperation in her eyes. "C'mon Simon, we need to get to Alicante. Please?"

"But..." Simon looked at her like she was insane.

"_Please?"_ She latched on to his hand and squeezed his palm in between hers. "I need to find Jonathan and make sure he's okay."

Simon opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again. His shoulders sagged and he looked at his shoes. He looked back up at her after a moment or two of thought, "Okay. Fine. But we're calling a tow first thing."

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

He hesitated before hugging her back, and gave her waist a tight squeeze against him. She thought maybe he lingered in the hug a little bit too long. She pulled away and smiled over at Jace, who seemed to be inspecting his nails.

"Let's go," she said.

Jace grinned and led them back to the car. Isabelle and Alec were watching them with their windows down. Jace smacked his hands against the edge of Isabelle's window.

"We've got some hitchhikers! On to Alicante!" he said.

Clary thought she heard Alec groan. She got into the car and Simon followed, looking rather deflated.

* * *

_Author Note: Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favs! I appreciate any feedback I can get. I nearly called this chapter "In which no one was prepared for their car to break down." Anyways, thanks for reading._


	3. Chapter 3 - Admonition

Chapter Three – Admonition

Simon gently shook her awake by the shoulder. Clary tried to blink away the sleep from her eyes.

"We're here," he said. He looked tired, dark rings under his eyes. "C'mon."

"What time is it?" she fumbled for her phone.

"It's midnight," he said.

Alec was already outside, pulling bags out and organizing things. Clary managed to stumble out of the car and stretched, her muscles giving a thankful sigh. She leaned into the back and grabbed her bag. Simon, and the others were doing the same. She couldn't help but watch Jace out of the corner of her eye as he leaned up to stretch. She caught a glimpse of taut stomach peek out from under his t-shirt. She forced herself to look away.

The world was all blues and greys. They were pulled up in front of a rickety wooden fence, with a rusty parking sign tied to the front. A few buildings sat on the other side of the fence, made of the same rickety wood, painted white. The paint was flaking off on most of them. Something felt strange, she realized as she looked around but she couldn't place it.

"Weird," Simon muttered from beside her. "Is it just me, or is there a big difference between those two trees?"

He pointed and Clary found herself taken aback. There were two trees close together on either side of the fence. The one on the town side of the fence was luscious, full of green leaves, stretching out tall toward the dark sky. The second tree, closest to them, looked hollow and rotting. Its leaves were stripped bare, and many of its branches were twisted or falling. It looked dead.

"That _is_ weird," Clary took a step back. The grass crunched beneath her feet, and she realized that, just like the trees, the grass on their side of the fence was dead and brown. "This is kinda creepy."

"You're telling me," Simon said.

Jace and the others were hopping over the small fence. Simon and Clary followed suit, Simon holding out a hand to help her. There was different air inside of the town. It was warmer. But still, it seemed darker.

"Is this Alicante?" Isabelle asked eagerly, looking around. She seemed pretty cheery despite the late hour.

Simon and Clary exchanged glances.

"Seems like it," Clary said, finally.

"Great, we're here. Do you guys have any idea where the old Wayland house is?" Isabelle said, brushing her silky hair over her shoulder. She fixed her beautiful dark eyes on them. Clary couldn't help but notice how pretty she was now that she could see her clearly. "We're going to be doing some filming down that way."

"Uh," Simon seemed to be having trouble untying his tongue, "Not sure. We were going to look for the local hotel."

"We can help each other out," Jace said. Clary might have imagined it, but he kept glancing at her when he didn't think she was looking. He said, "Let's just walk around. We'll help you find a hotel, and you can help us find the old Wayland place."

"Sounds good," Clary piped up before Simon could say anything. He looked ready to protest again. "Let's go."

They five of them wandered into town, Simon and Clary leading, the other three trailing behind. Simon kept glancing back, walking stiffly.

"You okay?" Clary asked.

Simon threw another glance over his shoulder, "I dunno, I don't trust them."

"...Why? What's there to be suspicious about?" Clary gave him a weird look. "They helped us when we needed and they're just here to film stuff. Who cares? We've just got to find Jonathan and get back home."

"And sleep," Simon's shoulders sagged.

Clary shrugged, "I don't know. They seem nice."

"You've just got a boner for the blond bimbo," Simon folded his arms, and then decided to fidget with the strap of his bag.

"Can boys be bimbos?" Clary grinned.

Simon looked at her, "Of course men can be bimbos. I mean, what would you call Eric?"

She laughed, "Okay you have a point."

"What's so funny up there?" Jace called, making Clary and Simon look back.

"Nothing," Simon said quickly.

She elbowed him, "Stop talking for me."

Simon looked sheepish and they heard laughter behind them. Clary glanced back and saw that Alec had his camera in his hand. While it was small, it had a mic protruding from the top. He was looking into the display screen sticking out of the side, and using the camera to see.

The sky was only getting darker, the greenery was lush, and the houses all looked dead. They were all painted white, the paint peeling and showing grey wood underneath. Those that had brick were weathered and broken. She noticed that there were crows sitting in the lush trees, sleeping with heads tucked under their wings. A few were awake, watching them. They didn't caw at all. It was unsettling. She took a step closer to Simon.

He put a hand on her arm, "Woah," he said.

"What?" Clary looked at him, startled.

He pointed at one of the white buildings, "I think I saw someone in the window."

"Yeah?" she said, "What were they doing?"

"They were just staring. The light wasn't even on."

She swallowed hard and looked around. She kept thinking she saw people in the windows too, watching. But every time she look a good look, she couldn't see anyone there. Except maybe the faint sway of the curtains.

"Creepy," she muttered.

"Yep," said a voice behind her, making Clary jump. She turned to see Jace standing close behind her shoulder. She hadn't even heard him walk up. He was staring off at the windows too. He looked back at her, "There's a lot of people up this late."

"Yeah, it's weird," she said, shrugging. She felt her face flush, embarrassed for not noticing him come up behind her.

"Haunting, would you say?" he grinned.

Clary frowned, "I guess?"

"See, I told you this place was haunted," Jace called over his shoulder at Alec, who just scowled at him. "The redhead told me so!"

"I don't think she has the credentials to decide whether this place is haunted or not," Alec snapped back. When Clary shot him a look he frowned at her, "No offense."

"I still don't see why you'd think this place is haunted," She thought she saw someone duck out of sight behind a curtain in one of the windows. She shivered and took a step closer to Simon.

"You heard about that creepy murder thing that happened a decade ago right?" Jace said.

Clary nodded. Johnathan had told her about it. "Three people were killed. The news papers said they were half eaten when they were found... And that one of their neighbours had done it. Lucian something."

"Yep," Jace smiled. He continued in a spooky voice, "They say the ghosts of his three victims walk the halls of the Wayland house, eating anyone who dares to stay the night."

Simon scoffed.

"So you're going to film getting eaten?" she asked, not taking her eyes off Jace.

"Don't worry, we'll make it. Alec might lose an arm, but it's a price we're willing to pay."

Clary couldn't help but smile.

"I think the hotel's over there," Simon grabbed Clary's wrist before she could say anything more. He pointed to a tall building, made like the rest of them, with a sign that said HOTEL out front.

"That would be it," Jace muttered under his breath. He sounded disappointed, or annoyed.

Clary smiled at him and waved, "Well, see you around. I hope your ghost hunting thing goes well..."

"Thanks," Jace grinned, "Maybe we can meet for breakfast."

Clary pushed a strand of red hair out of her face, "Okay. That would be... good."

"Good," he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.

"We should go," Simon said. He was taking steps toward the hotel.

"Yeah, lover boy, let's go," Isabelle shoved Jace away by his lower back. Alec wandered behind them, swivelling the camera to catch a final look at Simon and Clary as they walked away. Simon caught sight of the camera and made a little v-sign with his fingers and pulled a funny face. Alec looked up from the view screen to frown at him, and then turned and caught up with his siblings.

Simon let go of Clary's wrist and linked arms with her at the elbow. "Weirdos."

"They're not that weird," Clary nudged him, "Ghosts are cool."

"They also don't exist."

"I thought you liked horror and fantasy stuff."

"Yeah but I know that it's fiction."

Clary looked over her shoulder. They were almost at the door of the hotel. She shrugged, "They're still pretty cool."

"I stick with my earlier boner statement," Simon pushed the door open.

There was a bell hanging above the door that jangled as they walked in. There was a little grey lobby, with a flight of stairs leading up one wall and a desk sitting against the other, a door behind it. There was a dark haired young man standing behind the desk, wearing a white dress shirt and a glittery purple tie hanging around his neck. As Simon and Clary got closer, she thought it reminded her of a noose. She also noticed that the young man was asian, and his hair had a bit of a spiky look.

His glance flickered between Simon and Clary, his mouth a tight line. His eyes looked almost orange.

"Uh, hi," Simon said awkwardly, "Can we get a room please?"

The man leaned over the desk, bringing his face close to them. He spoke in a whisper, "You should leave."

Clary swallowed, "Are the rooms all full?"

"No, but you should leave," the young man hissed. _"Please."_

"Magnus," said a voice from the door behind the desk. Clary hadn't even noticed it open. Magnus jumped and turned to the man standing in the doorway. He had a lined face and greying hair. "Are you turning these people away?"

"No sir," Magnus said tightly.

"Really? I thought I heard you telling them to leave," the man walked to the desk, never taking his eyes of Magnus. Clary could see that Magnus was sweating. The grey man smiled almost pleasantly at Simon and Clary, "Now, how may I help you two?"

"We'd like a room," Clary glanced at Magnus, who was shaking his head just outside of the grey haired man's line of vision.

"Two beds, I presume?" the man opened the large ledger sitting at the edge of the desk, pen poised.

"Just one please," Simon said quickly. He pulled out his wallet and checked the bills inside. He look at Clary, "Unless they cost the same. I don't know."

Clary frowned. They'd been sleeping in the same bed since they were kids. Why was it bothering him all of a sudden? Was he really that worried about what the grey haired man thought?

"I'll give you a discount. I assume you're students," the man said, smiling thinly.

"Yes," Simon breathed out a sigh of relief, avoiding Clary's funny look.

The grey haired man pulled a key out from under the desk and handed it to Simon, who awkwardly paid for their room.

The man turned to Magnus, "Take these two to their room, and get rid of that ridiculous tie on your way back."

"Yes sir," Magnus gave him a quick nod, then rounded the side of the desk.

He led them up the stairs. The boards creaked and groaned, and Clary wondered if they might break underneath their weight. She could feel the grey haired man's eyes on them as they ascended. Once they were safely on the second floor, and near the end of the hallway, Magnus turned on them.

"Get out as soon as you can," he said, whispering again, "I know I must sound insane, but... please leave."

"Why?" Clary asked. She felt a sudden urge to look over her shoulder.

"What, is there some kind of murder cult in the basement?" Simon was smiling, but Clary could tell that he was as freaked out as she was.

Magnus didn't look amused, and the smile fell from Simon's face. "I know what I'm talking about. Leave. Or you'll be dead by morning."

Simon put up his hands and took a step back. Clary joined him, backing up slowly.

"We don't want any trouble," Simon said.

Magnus seemed hurt for a moment, like he'd been slapped. He looked away, "I'm not..." He looked back up at them, "Please just leave."

Simon and Clary exchanged glances.

"Can I at least get my money back?" Simon said.

Magnus crossed his arms and rolled his light coloured eyes, "Go into your room, complain about mildew, get your money, and then leave. Just get out before it's too late. I'm supposed to be at the front desk..." He started toward them, then stopped. He yanked his sparkly purple tie off and shoved it into Clary's hands, "Take this."

He quickly disappeared down the stairs.

"Well that was weird," Clary turned to Simon.

"Do you think he was serious?" Simon looked pale.

"I have no idea. I want to sleep."

She hadn't realized it before, but she was dead tired. Her limbs felt heavy and she was buzzing with the need for sleep and somewhere to lie down. She just wanted to crawl into bed, and start their search for Jonathan in the morning.

They went to their room and slipped into their separate beds. They were both on edge, watching the windows, the door, and the shadows in the corners of the room.

Some time in the night, Clary thought she heard a noise.

She sat up and looked around. She heard the sound again. Like a rattling coming from outside the door, like someone was fiddling with the lock. It had to be her imagination. Or the sounds of the building settling. Or the cleaning service. They'd peek in and see they were sleeping and leave... But it was the middle of the night. When she heard it again, she wasn't so sure. She crept out of bed and went over to the door, pressing her ear against the cold wood.

She jumped at the sound of feet scuffling down the hallway. Someone had been waiting outside their room. And she was sure it wasn't the maid.

She shuddered and made sure it was locked. She quickly grabbed the chair near the doorway and jammed it under the doorknob to wedge it shut.

She then turned and crawled into bed with Simon. He stirred a little as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against his back. She kept looking over her shoulder at the door, expecting whoever it was to return.

* * *

_Author Note: Hey thanks again for the reviews and follows. (: It's great to hear from you. I'd like to hear where people think this is going so I know what I've promised._


	4. Chapter 4 - Terror

Chapter Four – Terror

"So according to the map," Isabelle said, squinting at the screen of her phone, "This should be the Wayland house."

"It looks spooky enough," Jace said, looking the rickety old house up and down. It was decrepit and falling apart, grey and chipped white like the rest of the houses in Alicante.

"It certainly films well," Alec commented.

"Let's go in," Isabelle started toward the door. There were old, moldy boards nailed across the door. She grabbed hold of one and pulled hard. It broke easily and came away from the door by the nails. Satisfied, Isabelle grabbed hold of the next one.

"Careful! We have to be quiet," Alec said, his voice a loud whisper, "Maybe there's a back way we can take!"

Jace patted his brother's shoulder, "We'll put the boards back on our way in and on our way out. No one will be the wiser. What are they going to do, call the cops?"

"Yes that's exactly what they'll do."

"This place is way too small for a police force," Jace said. Isabelle was nearly finished dismantling the boards. He went to help her. "The cops won't be here for hours if someone calls them. And by then we'll be hidden away and partying it up with the ghosts."

"Exactly," Isabelle gave a final tug, and the last board came loose. She put it down on the ground in front of the door and tried the knob. She sighed. "It's locked."

Jace grinned at her. "When has that ever stopped us?"

He lifted his foot up and levelled it with the latch, then bashed his heel into it. The door flew open with a loud crack and a bang. Isabelle gave him an approving look.

"You're getting better at this," she said, and waltzed inside.

Jace pretended to shine his nails on his shirt, then followed her, looking smug. Alec was the last to go into the old decrepit home. He put down the camera long enough for him and Jace to replace the boards in their nail holes and close the door. Once his camera was in his hands again, he switched it to night vision, giving the display screen an eerie green glow. He watched his two siblings walk around, their skin look pasty white on the screen. Jace and Isabelle pulled out flashlights from their bags and began to explore.

They were in what looked like a sitting room, with old furniture covered in white sheets and plastic. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, turning everything milky and grey. There was a doorway leading to the next few rooms, and a staircase leading up. Like the outside of the house, everything inside was painted white.

"Let's explore the main floor and then work our way up and then back down," Alec said.

"Where did they say the murder happened?" Jace asked. He kept looking up at the ceiling.

Isabelle said, "There was a husband and wife that were murdered upstairs in the master bedroom. They were staying with this Wayland guy, who was killed in the kitchen. Wayland got a knife through his spine, and the couple got their throats slashed."

"Yikes," Jace mumbled. He shone his light around the room. "Here ghosty ghosty ghosty. Here ghosty ghosty."

"Hold on," Alec said, wandering closer to his sister, "Isabelle can you say that murder thing again? I don't know if the mic picked it up."

Isabelle straightened out her hair, brushing it over her shoulder then turned to the camera. She repeated what she'd found out in her research, adding a bit of dramatic flare to the retelling. Alec looked up from the display screen mid-story and said, "You sound really fake, Izzy."

She crossed her arms over her chest, "Fine, I'll say it again. I was just trying to add some dynamism."

"Ghost hunting is dynamic enough," Alec said, rolling his eyes. He turned back to the little screen, "Now say it again."

Jace, meanwhile, had wandered over to the doorway leading farther into the house. He tried the doorknob and it opened with a click. He looked back over his shoulder, to see Alec and Isabelle still caught up in their filming stuff, then pushed the door open slowly. The hinges gave a long creak as the door swung open.

He stepped into what appeared to be the kitchen, though all the appliances were missing. There were cabinets, all dusty and old looking. There was a dusty round table sitting in the middle of the room with some chairs tucked around it.

A back door stood beyond the cabinets. Jace thought back on the story Isabelle had told about the murders. The guy who had died in the kitchen, Wayland, must have been running for the back door before he'd been struck down.

_Poor guy,_ Jace thought. _He must have been so close to escaping._

He went over to the back door and saw that it was boarded up from the outside.

He stared back at the kitchen and tried to imagine it sprayed red with blood. Whoever had cleaned up had done a damn good job. Everything was white. Nothing looked discoloured. And something felt so familiar, he realized. It tickled up and down his spine, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was that made him feel that way.

"Jace?" Isabelle called from the other room.

A moment later she was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, her hands on her hips. Alec was behind her, filming, but looking concerned.

"Tell us when you're going to run off," she said.

Jace grinned, "What, did you think a ghost dragged me off somewhere?"

He couldn't help but notice Alec check over his shoulder. Jace grinned even more. "Scared there?"

"What? No!" Alec spluttered, going red. Isabelle laughed and nudged her brother. He scowled at her, "Thanks for the shaking the camera, Izzy."

"Edit it out later," she papped his shoulder and looked around. "This is where Wayland died huh?"

"Maybe his ghost appears here every night," Jace put on a spooky laugh.

Alec frowned at him, then looked at his watch, "How about we go explore the other rooms down here and then we can eat. After that, we can venture upstairs."

They went off to explore the rest of the ground floor. There was a study and a bathroom, but nothing interesting. Jace suggested they play Bloody Mary, and almost got Isabelle to agree, but Alec stopped them. He told them they were being childish and stupid, but Jace had a feeling that somewhere deep down, Alec believed in those silly ghost stories.

Once they were finished exploring, Isabelle brought the snacks out of their bags. They were too paranoid about neighbours calling the police to try to turn on any of the lights. And they soon discovered that there was no power anyways once they tried to plug in the electric kettle. They sat in the kitchen and ate their snacks, chatting quietly. Alec got some footage of them talking about what they were expecting to see upstairs.

"I think this going to be a pretty lame documentary," he admitted finally.

"You don't think there's any ghosts haunting this place?" Isabelle leaned back in her chair.

"It's creepy enough, sure," Alec said, "but any place can be creepy at night."

"You scared?" Jace teased.

Alec shot him a look, "No. I-"

He was cut off as they heard a dull _thud_ from above them. Simultaneously, they looked up. Then looked at one another.

A smile spread across Jace's face, "What do you think that was?"

"A raccoon probably," Alec huffed, but he looked a little pale in the dim light.

He noticeably jumped as a frantic banging echoed from the door. Jace had jumped a little bit too, but he wasn't willing to admit it. Judging from the blush spreading across Alec's cheeks, he didn't intend to either. They shared another look.

"Who's going to get that?" Isabelle asked, looking tense. Alec's eyes flicked nervously back and forth between his brother and sister.

Jace rolled his eyes, throwing down his bag of chips. "I'll get it."

He got up, and walked toward the door. Alec followed with his camera rolling. He opened the door and was surprised to see Clary pulling frantically at a board. She stopped and looked up at him, wild eyed and pale in the moonlight. Behind her, Simon was blinking dazedly, looking tired and rumpled.

"Are you okay?" Jace asked, helping Clary move the board. It came away from the wall and Clary staggered back. Jace went to work at pulling the other boards down again.

"This is the Wayland place?" Clary asked, still out of breath.

"What did you think it was?" he frowned. Alec and Isabelle appeared behind him.

She gave him a helpless shrug. "I thought it was just some abandoned- B-but you have to let us in—someone's chasing us!"

Alec made a surprised noise. "Someone's chasing you?"

"Get in here," Jace stepped out of the way and Clary dragged Simon inside. Jace put the boards back and went to shut the door. He took a long look before closing it, scanning for anyone in the dimness. He couldn't see anyone, but he watched the shadows carefully.

"What happened?" Isabelle led Clary and Simon into the kitchen.

Jace looked over to see Alec watching the dark stairs, his camera trained on the top step. Jace put a hand on his shoulder and he jumped. Smiling, Jace nudged him with an elbow, "See anything?"

"No." Alec muttered, clearly embarrassed. The two of them went into the kitchen.

Clary was telling her story to Isabelle, the three of them sitting around the table. Simon still looked confused and a bit groggy, but he was looking around and slowly gaining alertness.

"First I heard someone fiddling with our lock," Clary said, "but they left when they heard me go for the door. The next time I woke up there was someone in the room with us."

"There was?" Simon asked, his face going white.

Clary nodded. "The door was open a little and there was someone standing behind it. When I got up to look at them, they darted out into the hallway."

Simon looked like he was going to be sick, "Oh... I didn't even notice. Are you sure you saw someone?"

"Yes!" Clary threw up her hands, "I swear I saw someone. You are just the heaviest sleeper ever."

Simon put up his hands in surrender, "Sorry, I just-"

"Who do you think was watching you?" Jace cut in. He leaned against the doorway. "Think the owner was paranoid that you were stealing towels. Or do you think it was ghost?"

Clary looked his way, an expression on her face like she didn't know what to make of him. "I don't know."

"It's _not_ haunted," Alec huffed, dropping his shoulders in exasperation. "Can we please operate under that assumption for the rest of the night."

Simon frowned. "Aren't you guys ghost hunters?"

"This one's a non-believer," Jace tilted his head toward Alec.

"Can we please get back to the important stuff here," Isabelle cut in. She slapped a hand down on the desk and everyone turned their attention back to her. When she had everyone's attention, she continued, "There was some creep in your hotel room. That's terrifying."

Clary nodded.

"Didn't you say someone was chasing you?" Jace added, looking over his shoulder.

Clary looked back at him and nodded. "I got Simon up so we could go find someone who worked there, and when we were walking down the hall I heard someone behind us. And... when I looked, no one was there, but I could still hear them coming after us. So we booked it out of there."

"And here we are," Simon rubbed his eyes. He looked at Clary, "I didn't hear anything when we were in the hall."

"Ghosts," Jace grinned.

Alec opened his mouth to protest, but Isabelle butted in before he could start, "Are you sure it wasn't just dark? It could have been a dream. Did you know the person in your room?"

Clary shook her head. "I didn't recognize them... But they were kind of tall."

"Maybe it was that Magnus guy," Simon turned to Clary. Her eyes widened and she nodded.

"Maybe," she pushed her hair out of her face. Jace couldn't help but watch her bright red curls fall into place. He blinked and rejoined the conversation.

"Who's Magnus?" he asked.

"He's this guy who worked at the front desk," Clary said. "He warned us to leave or... we wouldn't be alive by morning."

"Creepy," Isabelle muttered.

"Why would you stay in a hotel if they told you that you were going to be murdered?" Alec frowned at them.

"We thought he was trying to freak us out," Clary said.

"He kind of succeeded too. With this whole watching us sleep thing," Simon added.

"Do you think he's going to come in here?" Isabelle asked.

Jace looked over his shoulder again. The curtains were drawn across the only window facing the front, so he couldn't see anyone. He then eyed the back door, but he couldn't see anyone out of that window either.

"Hm. We'll just have to wait and find out," he said. He looked at the others and noticed Alec was staring nervously up at the ceiling.

"Right." Simon said, drumming his fingers against the table. "So, found any ghosts over here?"

They heard a scream echo from above them and the sounds of feet thudding down the hall.

"What was that?" Alec said weakly.

Jace grinned over at him.

Alec looked livid. "Don't say it."

Jace turned and gracefully sauntered into the sitting room. He went to the bottom of the stairs and beckoned the others to follow him.

"Only one way to find out."

"You're insane," Alec stomped after him, camera out in front of him like a shield. Isabelle, Clary, and Simon followed after them. Isabelle pushed past her brother and stood beside Jace, looking up the stairs.

"Alec is your camera working?" she asked.

"Yes," he grumbled.

"Good, don't miss a second of this."

She ran up the stairs, Jace close at her heals. He couldn't help but let out a laugh of excitement.

They turned down the hallway at the end of the stairs and went to the first door they could find. They opened it to find the bathroom. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary or ghostly, so Jace shut the door and went for the next one.

He flung it open and froze.

There was blood splattered across the ceiling and the walls in long arcs of spray. The bed was damp, the fabric saturated with blood so thick it looked black. It dripped from the ceiling in sickening drops.

There was a woman sitting on the bed, in a white nightgown. Her hand was on the bed beside her, the empty half of the double bed, fingers tracing over the ghastly stain. She looked toward the door.

Jace took in a sharp breath. The woman's throat was cut, a clean slice straight across, grinning red. The front of her dress was a dark red. There was splatter across her cheeks and through her pale hair.

She looked confused.

"My husband," she murmured, and her voice sounded muffled and far away. "Where is he, sweetie?"

Jace took a step back. Isabelle peered around him. She put a hand to her mouth when she saw the state of the room and the woman on the bed.

"Alec?" she whispered, not taking her eyes off of the woman, "Are you getting this?"

"Yeah," Alec said, staring wide eyed into the display screen.

Simon made a choked sound in his throat and took hold of Clary's arm.

"Oh my god," Clary breathed, "Is she okay?"

The woman stared at them, her eyes hollow. "My husband..."

There was a bang from downstairs and everyone jumped.

"Sounded like the front door," Jace said.

He had only taken his eyes off of the woman for a second, but when he looked back, she was gone. The red stains and the dripping blood had disappeared along with her. Jace blink. "Where...?"

There were fast footsteps coming up the stairs, hard and heavy like they were running. Jace found himself surprised when he saw a figure standing at the end of the hallway. He swore and shoved Isabelle inside the room. He grabbed Alec next and pushed him in, then dragged Clary and Simon in by their arms. He slammed the door shut behind them and braced himself against it with his shoulder. There wasn't any lock.

Alec swore and checked his camera as Isabelle helped him up. Simon held onto Clary protectively, but she was looking at Jace.

"Was that Magnus?" Jace demanded.

"I don't know," she said, breathless.

There was a bang on the door and Jace had to readjust his balance to keep the door from flying open. Alec ran to his side and helped him keep the door closed. It rattled and jerked as it was slammed into from the other side. Simon and Isabelle joined in, helping to keep the door closed.

"Clary, see if the window opens," Jace said quickly.

Clary threw herself over to the window and tried to pull it open. It creaked, and shoved open an inch. Clary swore and tugged harder. The wood frame groaned, but it wouldn't budge. Simon ran over and tried to push it open from underneath, putting his shoulder into it. Clary joined him. The scrape of the wood frame moving set Jace's teeth on edge.

The battering at the door got harder. A deep voice from the other side said, _"Submit."_

"What?" Isabelle breathed, staring at the door, and then at her brothers.

"Come on!" Alec shouted to Simon and Clary as they struggled with the window. "Hurry up!"

"We're trying!" Clary grunted from the effort. "It's stuck!"

There was another sudden bash against the door. The voice from the other side whispered hoarsely, "_Your flesh is needed_."

Isabelle let out a sound of disgust, and Jace felt a coarse chill run up his spine. He'd heard that somewhere before, but he was too wired to dwell on it.

"Fuck off, you creep," he bellowed. "You'll regret coming in here." He adjusted his stance against the door as it shuddered from another battering.

Isabelle gasped and stared in horror at the door's latch. Jace looked down and saw that the wood was splintering around the bolt. His shoulder was aching and his feet kept slipping on the wooden floor. He had no idea how the man on the other side was so strong that he could shake the three of them. He looked toward Clary and Simon's progress with the window. They had it barely wide enough for them to slip out on their stomachs.

"Go out the window!" he called to them. "You two first, then Izzy, then Alec, and I'll follow you out! Go!"

"You can't hold this door on your own," Alec hissed, grunting against another attack.

"I can do it if you're quick," he snapped back. He looked at Clary and Simon, who were standing by the window, panting and scared. "Go!"

"I'll go first," Simon said, looking out the window. "It's a bit of a drop. And I can catch you, Clary."

She nodded. "Okay. Be careful."

He nodded and started trying to get his feet through the window. Jace watched to make sure he got through okay, and readjusted his grip on the door. He heard Simon yelp as he dropped down two stories. He heard a thud.

"Simon!" Clary called, sticking her head out the window.

"I'm okay!" Simon called, sounding a bit winded. "Come on! I'll catch you!"

Clary nodded, then turned around to get her legs through the window. She gave Jace a worried look, took a breath, and then slipped out the window. She screamed and it ended with a grunt from both her and Simon.

"Izzy, go!" Jace said. She nodded and ran to the window, moving with lightning speed. Jace readjusted so that he was in front of the bolt of the door. He and Alec grunted against the force of the next battering.

Isabelle slipped out the window.

Jace looked Alec in the eye as they sustained another hit. "Go." he said.

"You go," Alec said.

Jace frowned at him, and put some force into his voice, "No, Alexander, go. I can hold it, just hurry."

Alec hesitated and helped Jace withstand the next blow. Then he bolted to the window, and scrambled through the opening. "Jace, come on!" he shouted before dropped down.

"Right behind you," Jace shouted back.

The next blow to hit the door nearly knocked him off his feet. He managed to regain his balance just in time and threw his entire weight against the door. His shoulder burned from the pain of the impact, and he grunted with the effort. He took another battering, then threw himself away from the door. He bolted toward the gap in the window.

His timing was just off. The door burst open with a crack and clipped the back of Jace's heel, throwing him off balance. He landed clumsily and tried to scramble to his feet as best he could.

Hands latched onto his shirt and yanked him backward. He lost balance again and fell onto his attacker. He threw his elbow back and caught the guy in the stomach. The hands let go of him and he dashed to the window.

He looked over his shoulder to see a grey looking man bent over, growling profanities. Jace realized he didn't have enough time to get out the window.

"I'll meet you out front!" he shouted out the window, then turned.

He used all of his weight to barrel into the man. He tackled him down, then scrambled to his feet and ran to the door. He ran as fast as he could down the hallway and leaped down the stairs. He hit into the wall at the bottom in order to stop from falling. He could hear the man thundering down the hallway after him.

The front door was ajar, and Jace made a break for it.

As soon as he was out the door, he hit into a body. They both fell, Clary screaming. Jace rolled to take off some of the impact, and landed on top of her. Clary shoved at his chest, panicked, for a moment before before she realized who it was.

"Jace!" She breathed, wide eyed and breathing hard.

"Are you okay?" Isabelle asked.

"We have to go," Jace said, leaping to his feet. He pulled Clary up and started running, holding onto her hand. "Come on! Move!"

He ran in the direction he thought the car was parked, and everyone else followed. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the man was thundering after them. He tried to speed up.

He banked around the corner of one of the matching, decrepit white houses, and stopped dead. Clary slammed into his back and they both stumbled. Alec, Isabelle, and Simon stopped short beside them, panting.

"What the hell...?" Simon muttered.

There was a line of people in front of them, their faces hidden in the shadows between the houses. They stood motionless, staring.

* * *

_Author Note: Thanks to InMySoul, BlackHeartedTigress, Manicchef, TaintedXDesires and I-Is-Your-Bane for the reviews so far. (: Great to hear from you. And thanks to everyone following this. I hope this is horror-y enough. Again, thanks for reading._


	5. Chapter 5 - Frenzy

_Author Note: Woops, I didn't realize that a week had crawled by already. I meant to update faster. Oh well, here's the next chapter, it's another longer one. Thanks to InMySoul, I-Is-Your-Bane, Rachel Anne Garman, Keep-On-Smiling11, and that one Guest for reviewing. Glad to know people are enjoying this. (:_

* * *

Chapter Five – Frenzy

Clary was the first to speak, "We need help. Someone's chasing us."

The row of strangers was silent. Clary thought she could see them exchanging uneasy glances.

She checked over her shoulder. The man that had been chasing them was farther behind than she'd thought, and walking toward them. She moved closer to Jace and clutched his arm. His grip on her hand tightened as he turned to see the man as well.

"We're in trouble," he muttered under his breath.

Clary looked at him, then at the people. He was right, she knew it in the tight feeling in her stomach.

"We don't want any trouble," Alec said from beside them. He held his hands up, palms out flat.

No one moved. Clary wanted to run.

Someone pushed through the line of people, and they moved to let him pass. A tall man with pale hair stood in front of the crowd, his features hidden in the shadows like the rest of them. He stood with much more ease and poise than the rest of them, and his clothes looked a little less shabby, wearing a plain but fine suit.

Clary dug her nails into Jace's arm. She thought she recognized the man, but she couldn't remember where she knew him from, or who he even was. It was somehow in the way he stood.

"Your flesh is needed," the man said. His voice was steady and cold and clear. "Please submit. It can be painless if you come willingly."

"What?" Isabelle breathed. "What the hell is this?"

"Your flesh is needed as a sacrifice. I know it seems like a hard choice, but it is necessary," he said. His tone of voice was like a teacher's, as if he was telling them that they had to do their homework. Clary felt like she was about to vomit.

"You're kidding right?" Simon asked. He looked between the man and the townspeople. He had an uncertain smile across his face. "This is a big elaborate joke right? It's funny."

The man gave Simon a withering look. "No. I assure you, this is no joke."

The smile fell from Simon's face and he went very pale. Everyone was silent.

"Please, submit," the man said, spreading his hands out in front of him. "It is necessary."

Clary was the first to speak. Her voice was stronger than she'd expected, "No."

The man stared her in the eye. "No?"

"No! We're not being your sacrifices. Let us go."

It was so surreal, like a scene out of a horror movie, she realized. It had to be some kind of joke, or dream. She kept expecting to wake up in the hotel room, snuggled against Simon. She looked between Simon and Jace and the others. She looked back at the pale haired man. Part of her knew this was real. She wasn't going to let herself get killed.

The look the pale haired man gave her chilled her to the bones.

"Take them," he said. A strange feeling crackled over Clary's skin and the line of people surged forward.

Three men came toward Jace and Clary. Before she could move, Jace lashed out and hit one in the face. The man hit the ground hard. Jace kicked out at the next one, hitting him in the knee and making him falter. The third man managed to grab hold of Clary. She screamed and threw her fist into his chest. Pain shot up her wrist and the man coughed, releasing her.

She stumbled back out of the man's reach and looked around for the others.

It was chaos.

Jace and Alec were dodging punches from a rather large man, ducking and weaving out of the way. Simon was being held by his wrists by two women, and he was trying to twist out of their grasp. She knew he didn't want to hit them, and Clary went toward him. A few feet away, Isabelle was screaming as two of the townspeople lifted her up. They threw her to the ground and her scream cut short. One of them jumped on her, pinning her arms down with their knees. She started screaming again. Clary changed course and moved to help her.

A hand wrapped around her upper arm, squeezing painfully. She spun to see the man she'd hit in the chest. He snarled and swung her around. She lost balance as he let go, and she fell. The wind was slammed out of her, and she spluttered to breathe. The next thing she knew, he was on top of her, pulling her hands behind her back. Her hurt hand throbbed under the pressure. She flailed and kicked her legs, squirming to try to get away. The man was twice her size and held her easily.

When she was able to breathe again, she screamed. The man yanked her to her feet and dragged her down the street. She looked around wildly.

Isabelle was being held by the two men that had thrown her down earlier, each holding one of her arms. She kicked and struggled as they dragged her down the street. Alec and Simon had both been captured like Clary with their hands held behind their backs. And Jace was being held by the larger man, an arm across his neck as if he might crush it, and one of Jace's arms twisted behind his back.

Simon caught her eye, "Clary!" he struggled harder, and the woman holding him kicked him the back of his knee. He stumbled and she dragged him back up.

The five of them were dragged down the dim streets, and Clary could see the pale haired man leading the way. The townspeople followed, some expressionless, and some—Clary realized—looking scared. One man with dark brown hair and glasses met eyes with her, and gave her the most sorrowful look she had ever seen. She stared at him, horrified, before having to look away. His look made her uncomfortable and she had to concentrate on not tripping. She noticed the grey man that had chased them in the crowd as well, and she thought she saw Magnus. _How could they do this?_

The houses started becoming spaced out further and further. They turned the corner and Clary saw the rows and rows of trees. They were fenced in with black iron, the grass growing around them lush and full. The trees had beautiful foliage and stretching branches. They were huge. Even in the dark, Clary could see the plump red apples hanging down, bending the branches from their weight. She wondered if apples were even in season.

Despite how beautiful the orchard looked in the starlight, the sight of it made Clary's skin crawl. She struggled against the hands holding her, trying to bash the man's ankles and shins. He shoved her forward and her haphazard blows didn't seem to faze him.

The pale haired man opened the iron gate and stepped into the orchard, several of the townspeople following him in.

Clary was pushed toward the gate door. Something inside her woke up, sending her nerves on high. She dug her heels in. She slid across the grass, tearing up some the dirt.

The man just shoved her forward. She tried to throw herself away from his grasp, but he grabbed her hair and pulled hard. Tears stung her eyes, and she gasped from the pain.

"Clary!" Simon cried, but she couldn't see him.

She looked up to see the pale haired man turned and staring at her. He had a strange look in his eye, something she thought was akin to fury, and maybe some confusion. His look was measured and quickly drawn back into something unreadable.

Clary grit her teeth. She wasn't going to let them win. Whatever they were going to do to them, she wasn't going quietly.

"Malachi," said the pale haired man, "Do not step out of line again."

Clary stopped struggling for a moment, and she felt the man holding her tense. What did that mean? He wasn't supposed to pull her hair? Weren't they going to kill them?

It set some sort of hope in her that this was just a joke. They weren't really supposed to get hurt. This was just supposed to scare them.

"Yes, Valentine," Malachi said. He guided Clary firmly to the gate. She struggled and kicked, with little result, and was pushed through the threshold.

A feeling seeped in through her ribs. She had no explanation for what it was. A sense of dread nestled down in her chest, curling up in her insides.

The others were dragged in after her. She watched them, Simon and Alec looking resentful but collected, Isabelle kicking, and Jace in a solemn, brooding fury. They changed as soon as they stepped through the gate. It was strange. She noticed it the most in Simon—she knew him almost as well as she knew herself—when he physically started to panic. He tensed up and his breathing changed, his chest rising and falling too quickly. Isabelle stopped kicking and went still and Alec started struggling weakly. Jace's eyes went wide and shifted from side to side, like he was looking for something he couldn't catch in his sight.

She knew that they were feeling the same thing she was, or at least something close to it.

The pale man, Valentine, eyed them all, then continued further into the orchard.

The foliage was overwhelming, pressing down on them, oppressive. Clary thought it was going to close in and suffocate them. The orchard seemed massive around her, she couldn't see past the rows and rows of trees—it was nearly a very organized forest. Every time she looked down one of the rows of trees, she expected to see _something_ standing at the end, staring back at her.

The trees fell out of their neat rows after a while, and formed a circle. The townspeople filed into the clearing, keeping close to the line of trees. Clary and her friends were pushed toward the center. Clary felt a jolt of adrenaline when she saw what was in the middle.

A large, gaping pit stared back up at her. What little starlight flitted in between the leaves seemed to disappear into the pit, being eaten away by something inside. Clary's skin crawled. She could feel the draw of the _thing_ down there. And she _knew_ something was down there. She felt like her skin was trying to pull away from her muscles, squirming toward whatever was calling it. She could hear her pulse pounding in her head.

Valentine stood at the opposite lip of the pit, facing Clary. She saw that her friends were lined up beside her. Simon looked pale, staring down at the dark pit. She wanted to reach out and tell him it would be okay. Jace was beside him, his chin raised and his eyes burning.

The eyes of the townspeople were on them. Valentine fixed them with an unreadable gaze. Everyone was trapped in the silence of the orchards and the draw of the pit. Clary was close to breaking, she realized. She wanted to fight and claw her way out of there. She wanted to scream.

"What are you going to do to us?"

Clary realized it was Jace's voice slicing clear and true through the silence. She stared at him, and saw how beautiful and bright he was compared to the darkness all around them. His hair, and skin, and vivid eyes shone golden in the dark.

Valentine fixed him with a look, forever unreadable. He said, "This is a necessary sacrifice."

"You're going to kill us," Simon said, his voice strained with panic.

"You can't kill us," Isabelle said. She sounded scared, but she kept her voice from shaking, "We have people who know we're here. They'll come looking for us and bring the police."

Clary's heart sunk. No one knew that she and Simon were there. No one would know until the end of the weekend.

Valentine smiled, "That will not be a problem. We have dealt with the police before." Clary could have sworn she saw him look over at the man with dark hair and glasses, but he might have just been surveying the crowd.

"This is a necessity," he continued on. Clary wanted to kick his teeth in. This wasn't a necessity. It was murder. "Your deaths will be meaningful, in the end. And you will see that it will not entirely be the end."

"You're insane," Clary spat. She struggled against Malachi's grasp. She must have caught the man off guard, because she broke free and stumbled forward.

She stopped a moment before she would have fallen into the pit. She could almost feel the ground caving in beneath her feet. She threw herself backward and away, scrambling desperately to not fall into the gaping hole. She collided with the man behind her and pain shot through the back of her skull. She must have hit him in the face. He cried out and they fell backward. Before he, or anyone else, could grab her again, she darted away.

People leaped forward, and she dodged out of the way. She heard commotion behind her. She didn't know where she was going, she just knew that she had to get away. She could think of a plan later.

She elbowed someone out of her way. She turned to see over her shoulder. It was a flurry of bodies and panic. She thought she saw Jace in the middle, fighting and kicking his way out. She looked for the rest of them, mostly for Simon. She didn't know how well he'd fair against all these people. She kicked at someone who tried to grab her and ran for the trees. Hands kept catching at her hair and arms, but she tore threw the fray.

Finally, she broke through the tight circle of trees and started running. She wanted to double back and find everyone once she got enough distance. But she found herself just running. She could hear people behind her, nearly on her heels. She didn't turn, she kept on running. It seemed as if the orchard would never end.

Finally she saw the wrought iron fence. She ran toward it at full speed and vaulted over it. She didn't land very well. She stumbled, and a fierce pain cut down her knees and shins. She shoved herself to her feet as fast as she could. The people chasing her were already clumsily moving over the fence. She dashed toward the nearby houses, still bleak and white, like corpses.

She seemed to gain some distance between herself and the people chasing her. She turned down gravel way between two houses and spotted a cellar door. It might buy her some time, she realized, if she could get down into it before anyone saw.

She sprinted to the door and flung it open. She hesitated. It was pitch black. It wasn't the same _full_ darkness that the pit had been, but it was enough to make her pause. She heard someone shout close by and knew she had to act quickly.

She stepped into the darkness and quickly, quietly, shut the door behind her.

* * *

Jace slammed his fist into someone's face. He felt their nose crack more than he heard it. He shoved them away as they screamed, clutching their face, and made another run for it.

He'd seen Isabelle run off somewhere between the trees, but he hadn't seen anything of Alec. He had a horrible sick feeling in the bottom of his stomach when he briefly thought of Alec falling into the pit. He couldn't have, though. He would have heard him scream, he would have _felt_ if something bad had happened. He just had to hope that they were alright. He had also lost track of Simon and Clary, but he thought he'd seen them run off on their own. He hoped to meet up with them again, but his priority was his siblings.

Another man jumped in front of him. Jace was glad he had learned how to fight, as he threw another punch at one of the men advancing on him, otherwise his hands would much worse for wear. He could feel one of them going tender and throbbing from connecting with several jaws. In this kind of fight, a mad brawl, it was hard to judge his swings.

He ran past the man and made a run for the gate. Luckily, it was still standing open. He ran straight through and towards the rows of houses.

He was lucky to run so fast, happy for all those years of athletics in school, and seemed to lose track of whoever was chasing him. He stopped to catch his breath, hidden between a home and a closely planted tree. He had a good view of the streets, and he hoped he was hidden in the shadows. He could hear people shouting from far away. They sounded angry, so that at least gave him hope.

He hoped that his family was okay. He wondered where they would go on their own. His first thought was to meet them at the car, but he realized that the insane cultists would probably assume the same thing. It might not be safe to try the car just yet. He hoped that Alec and Isabelle were thinking the same thing. He thought of the next most obvious place, the Wayland house. They still had their things there. They could collect them and try for the car, or just leg it from there. They were miles and miles away from any civilization, but they'd eventually make it. They could get help by the road maybe...

He decided he would try back that way if he got the chance. Once he caught his breath.

He slunk back into the shadows as he saw two of the cultists walking. Two women. They looked worried, eyes darting around. They talked in hushed voices, but Jace could hear them.

"What if someone finds out?" one of the women said.

"Valentine will take care of it," said the second woman. "He always does."

"We don't take this many people. Someone's bound to find out. They're children."

"We have to trust that Valentine knows what he's doing... The full moon's almost here. We can't keep putting off the... sacrifice," Jace wasn't sure how to feel about the way the woman was talking. She sounded like she was about to cry.

"I know."

The women disappeared around a corner. Jace let out a breath. He had some hope that maybe he could reason with these people. They weren't all completely demented. Maybe some of them would take pity on him and his family.

If not, he realized, he could fight his way out.

He jumped when he heard foot steps behind him. He looked over his shoulder. Someone was standing at the other end of the wall, poised to move. He tensed—he kept expecting them to run at him. He squinted. They were silhouetted, but he could still see long, dark hair.

"Isabelle?" he whispered, hopefully loud enough for them to hear.

"Jace?"

The tension left his shoulders. He stood and crept his way over. They met and hugged each other hard.

"Oh my god, I'm so happy you're okay," Isabelle said.

"Yeah, you too," he squeezed her and then let go. "Have you seen Alec?"

"No," she said, "I didn't see where he went. You don't think he-"

"No," Jace said firmly, "We're going to find him and we're going to get out of here. He probably went to the Wayland place, or the car."

"Let's go find him," she sniffled. "I don't want anything happening to that idiot."

They crept out of the shadows and started carefully making their way to the Wayland house. Neither of them touched the subject of Simon and Clary. Jace hoped they would run into them and the problem would sort itself out. He didn't want to think about anything happening to either of them, especially Clary. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he'd thought she was pretty cute.

The sounds of shouts and screams reached them, echoing over the tops of houses. Jace and Isabelle stopped in their tracks.

"What was that?" Isabelle whispered.

Jace shook his head. He didn't know. All he knew was that it didn't sound good.

They kept moving, but they could hear the commotion getting louder, closer. They shared a look, then Isabelle ducked down one of the alley ways between houses to look around the corner. Jace stood at her shoulder.

She gasped and stepped back. "Oh my god," she said.

"What?" Jace could see a light advancing down the street. Isabelle pushed him back, frantic.

"We have to go," she hissed. "They're coming"

They tried to duck out of sight.

People streamed down the street, a few at a time, then more and more. Some were holding lit torches and some were holding weapons. Isabelle tugged on his hand, but he felt frozen. Some people were holding bats or pieces of wood with nails through them. Some were holding kitchen knives or cleavers. He thought he saw someone with a shovel, a pitch fork, a hammer...

He ran, clutching Isabelle's hand. A scream rose from behind them, and he ran faster. He could hear people running behind them. He could see orange fire light bouncing off the sides of houses, throwing his shadow out in front of him.

"They're insane!" Isabelle cried.

"Come on!" Jace urged her to run faster. They turned a corner and Jace realized they were on a major street. He could see more people with fire and fury at the end of a street. They needed to get out of sight quick. He dashed for another alley way.

Isabelle stopped, forcing him to stop too. She stood, dead still, her face pale and her eyes wide.

She screamed, and jerked forward. Jace reflexively pulled her back.

"Isabelle, we have to—" He stopped when he saw what she was seeing. A few rows away from them, Alec was crawling backward on the ground. He was bloody and frightened, moving away as fast as he could. A man with dark, tousled spiky hair was advancing toward him, an axe in hand.

"Alec!" Isabelle screamed, fighting against Jace's grip. Jace could only stare in horror. "Alec _run!"_

But he couldn't hear them. He kept backpedalling until he disappeared behind one of the houses. They could only see his legs. His hand must have slipped or his back must have hit something, because he stopped for a moment too long. The man raised the axe above his head. Isabelle screamed.

The axe came down.

Alec's legs jerked and then lay still. Isabelle kept screaming. Jace felt his knees trying to give way—he had no idea how he managed to keep himself upright. He felt dizzy. The world was distant.

He started to go forward. Maybe Alec was still alive. Maybe the man had missed. He had to do something.

Pain exploded across his left shoulder blade and he faltered, falling to one knee. He'd let go of Isabelle at some point. She turned to him, screaming, eyes wide with shock. He tried to move his arm, to feel what had happened, but he didn't need to. The pain stopped him, and he could feel the blade deep in his back. An axe or a cleaver or something equally big and sharp jutted out of him. Then hands wrapped around his neck from behind, and he could hear someone laughing, almost a growl.

"Your flesh is needed. _Submit."_ The man behind him said. He yanked the blade out.

It made a sickening sound, and Jace yelled from the pain. He could feel hot blood pour down his back, soaking into his shirt. Then all he could feel was a numbness. The ground rose to meet him, and the world started to turn black. His eyes rolled.

The last thing he could remember was Isabelle screaming, "Jace! Get up! _Jace!"_


	6. Chapter 6 - Lone

Chapter Six – Lone

Simon had somehow managed to duck out of sight when the townspeople had started to frenzy. He'd found a hole in the orchard. It looked freshly dug and reminded him of a grave. He dropped down inside and pressed himself against the shadowiest part, holding his breath. A people had peered down but hadn't seen him. He'd heard the noises of people running around, calling for his friends, but as he waited, the noise died down. He heard those that had stayed in the orchard murmuring anxiously above him.

His muscles ached from crouching and trying to stay still for so long. He was too scared to try to escape He realized he didn't have much of a way out of the hole without making a ruckus. He would have to wait until everyone was gone. The muscles in his thighs groaned from being so still.

He heard someone shush the murmurs. Simon held his breath again and presses his back harder against the damp earth. He tried to ignore the feeling of his skin crawling, or the tickles of roots and insects brushing the back of his neck.

He realized that the person who had shushed them was the guy with the white-blond hair—Valentine or something like that. Simon got this horrible vibe from him, like one of the horrible crows they'd seen coming into town.

"We can't let them get away," the man said, his voice deep and commanding. He sounded calm and reassuring, "The full moon is almost here. We can keep the beast placated for the months ahead with this new blood. The harvest is soon. We can't fail this, do you understand?"

There was a murmur of agreement from the people above him. What was he talking about? What _beast?_ Simon thought of the pit, and the way he'd felt something watching him from below. He didn't want to meet whatever was down there. He wanted to run away, screaming.

"Find them. Dead or alive, I don't care. We need their flesh and their blood." The man continued. There were more murmurs and agreements, and the man paused. Finally, he said, "Bring the red haired girl alive. I want to speak with her..."

Simon felt the sour tang of adrenaline pump through his chest. _Clary?_ What did he want with Clary? He had to find her and get her out of this awful place.

He heard the sound of feet shuffling away, people shouting orders. He waited until he could only hear the noises in the distance. He had to decide whether it would be worth peering out to see if anyone was around. If he was caught, he'd be killed. The thought brought tears to his eyes, panic threatening to swallow him up. But he couldn't wait in the hole until his friends were all rounded up and brought back to the orchard.

Carefully, he moved out of his crouch. His legs shook when he tried to put his full weight on them, the muscles tense and sore. He straightened up slowly and carefully tried to pull himself to the edge of the hole.

"Lucian."

Simon choked on a gasp and dropped back down into the hole. He tucked himself back into the shadows and hoped no one had seen him.

"What?" grumbled a new voice.

"I don't want you speaking with her, once she's here," Valentine said.

"I know," said Lucian, whoever he was.

"There's some business I need to attend to. Stay here. Proceed with the ritual if anyone returns with the children."

"Yes, sir," said Lucian, and Simon thought he heard him growl.

He heard the sounds of Valentine walking away. At least he knew now if someone was there.

Simon weighed the odds of being able to get away. He didn't know if this Lucian guy would be faster or stronger than him. He hoped he could outrun him. Maybe he needed a diversion. He felt around for a rock he could throw. Something to draw the man's attention away while he made a run for it.

He found a rock the size of his fist and worked up the nerve to act. He thought about what Clary had told Jace before, about that Lucian guy. If it was him... He thought he was caught... But no one had said that. Lucian was the guy who'd murdered those people. He thought of what he'd glimpsed in the Wayland house's bedroom. A woman covered in blood. He shuddered.

He took a deep breath, then threw the rock.

Before he could even think to listen for it, he scrambled out of the hole. He wished he could move faster, but pulling himself out of the hole proved to be harder than he'd imagined. He scrambled up, flopping onto the grass, and tried to get to his feet. He heard someone shout behind him. His feet found purchase and pushed off.

He heard heavy foot falls behind him. He grabbed the fence, ready to vault over it.

A hand grabbed onto his shirt and yanked him backward. He lost balance. He was spun around and lifted up by his shirt collar.

"Wait!" he gasped, out of breath, "Don't kill me!"

He found himself looking into the face of a man, Lucian. He had glasses and dark hair, a beard growing on his strong jaw. He looked tired and weary as he studied Simon.

"Let me go," Simon tried to pry his shirt free, kicking.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Lucian said. He looked over his shoulder, then lowered Simon. He didn't let go of his shirt. The line of his shoulders relaxed. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't hurt you."

Simon kept trying to tug himself free. "You're that murderer right?"

"I'm..." Lucian's jaw clenched. He sighed. "I didn't kill those people. It was Valentine."

He saw the look on Simon's face and continued, "I know you won't believe me. But I'm on your side. I want to help you get out of here." He glanced over his shoulder again.

"Why?" Simon stopped struggling.

"I want to help Clary," Lucian ran a hand through his messy hair. "If that girl even is Clary. I haven't seen her since she was a baby..."

"You knew Clary?" Simon asked. "How?"

"I knew her mother. Sorry, I have to hurry. Valentine might be back any minute now," he said. "I want you to take Clary and your friends and get out of here as fast as you can. They've probably taken your car. I have one. It's in my garage."

He told Simon the address and some directions on how to get there. "The garage door is red, and it should be unlocked. You can't miss it. I'll try to buy you all some time and keep the search away from there. Just please, get Clary out of here. I'll see if I can send Jonathan to help you, but I don't know."

"Jonathan's here?" Simon asked.

"Yes... I haven't had a chance to speak with him. He's with Valentine..." Lucian said. "If I can, I'll help him leave too. Just promise to keep Clary safe."

He released Simon's shirt and Simon stepped back. Simon nodded, taking a few more steps away from him. "I promise... She's my best friend."

A strange look, a mix of happy and melancholy crossed Lucian's face. "Good... I'm glad. How's her mother?"

Simon felt awkward, seeing the man's expression was like seeing something very tender and private, "She's fine... She's at an art show. She doesn't know we're here."

Lucian smiled weakly, "Good... I wouldn't want her to come back here." He checked over his shoulder. "You should go."

"Yeah." Simon nearly turned to leave, "Thanks. For helping us."

"You're welcome... I'm Luke."

"I'm Simon," he said. "Thanks again, Luke."

He turned and climbed over the fence, and started running. He had no idea where Clary had gone off to, but he was determined to find her.

* * *

Clary was alone in the dark. She held her breath and listened as people ran by. She heard shouts and screams in the distance. She hoped that everyone was alright. She caught her breath and listened and tried not to pay attention to the smothering darkness around her.

It was cold in the cellar. She hugged herself and waited.

She heard several people walk by. She held her breath.

She jumped when she heard a noise behind her. The sound or something falling over and rolling across the concrete floor. She scanned the darkness, squinting. She couldn't see anything. She took a step back and pressed herself against the door.

"Hello?" she whispered, hoarse.

There was silence, and then she heard the sound of liquid splattering across concrete. It sounded thick and sickly, and the drips that followed echoed through the cellar.

_It's just water_, she told herself,_ It's water dripping._

Then she heard the shuffling from the darkness. Her blood turned cold. It sounded like the shuffling of bare feet, the rough slide of skin on stone. Someone was down there with her in the dark.

Her hand flew to the door handle. She heard someone run by outside, the heavy falls of boots on gravel. Her knees were still burning from where she'd scraped them, the blood trickling down to her ankles.

The shifting from the darkness continued, and she started to see the outline of something coming toward her. It was human shaped and colourless, though she wouldn't have been able to tell either way in the dark. She could still hear people moving around outside. The urge to scream tried to push its way out of her throat.

The thing came toward her.

They were close enough for her to see most of them from the dim light filtering in from underneath the door. It was a man, his skin white and pasty. She could see a dark stain like a wet grin, dripping down his front from the top of his stomach. She realized that the dripping was coming from the black stuff dribbling from his stained shirt. She knew what it was. As he got closer, she saw that there was a horrible lump at the bottom of his shirt, something hanging there beneath the fabric that wasn't supposed to be there.

She covered her mouth with her hand to stop from crying out.

The man stared at her with hollow eyes and shuffled toward her. She thought she could see a scar jutting down one side of his face. He was only an arms length away.

He opened his mouth and she could see blood pour out, dribbling down his chin. He made a horrible groan, and he reached a hand out for her.

"Please help me," he coughed, "I trusted him... He did this to me."

"What?" Clary whispered, her voice catching.

"_Valentine..._ Help me."

His hand grasped her arm and it was like her arm was wrapped in ice. His touch was so cold it felt like her skin was on fire.

Panic overwhelmed her. She tore her hand away and threw the door open.

She ran down the alley way, not bothering to make sure she was silent. She had to get away from that grotesque _thing_ down there. That man wasn't alive. He couldn't be alive. His insides were everywhere. And she couldn't smell the blood.

She turned a corner and slammed right into someone's chest. She almost fell backward but two hands shot out and caught her by the arms. She screamed.

It was cut off by whoever it was yanking her to her feet. They shook her.

"Clary!"

She looked up, and realized she was crying. "...Jonathan?"

"Clary, are you okay?" her brother's face was pale with worry, his dark eyes scanning her face.

"Oh my god," she hugged him. "Where have you been?"

"I've been here. Why are you here? What happened to you?" He hugged her back, then let go. "We need to go."

He took her by the arm and pulled her across the street. Clary caught glimpses of people running between the houses, carrying sharp things and fire. He yanked open a door to one of the pale houses and ushered her inside. The house was empty, except for old furniture and yellowing wallpaper. He locked the door behind them.

"Your knees," he said. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I was running and I fell," she wiped her eyes with her hand. "Those people are insane. They wanted to kill us."

"Us?" Jonathan took her to the little bathroom and searched through the cupboards.

Clary was shaking. "Simon and some other people we met on the road... Those people were going to _sacrifice_ us or something."

"Yeah, they're insane," Jonathan found a wash cloth and some bandaids. He soaked the cloth and made Clary sit down on the side of the bathtub. He dabbed at her bloody knees and she didn't really feel the pain. She felt numb and shaky.

"I don't know where the others are. We have to find them," she felt buzzy. "There was this man... And he was covered in blood..."

Her brother stopped and looked up at her. His expression softened. "Hey, calm down okay? This is crazy, but we're going to get out of it just fine. We'll go home and pretend it never even happened, okay?"

She nodded and sniffled. "I want to find Simon."

"Yeah," he said. "We'll do that."

He finished cleaning up her knees and put bandages over the worst of it. A big chunk of flesh was missing from her knee, and there were a handful of scrapes on the other. The wounds looked a purplish red.

She stood, wobbling a little bit. "Let's go," she said.

Jonathan hesitated, and there was strange shift in his expression. She couldn't place it, and it only lasted a few seconds. It must have been her imagination, brought on by panic. Jonathan walked past her and went to the window, drawing the curtain back just enough to peer out.

She thought for a moment that he was too calm for all of this. And she wondered where he'd been hiding out. Had they done this same thing to him when he had arrived? Or had he just arrived when all this started?

"Jon-" she started, a million questions buzzing around in her head, but he cut her off.

"No one's out there right now, we should go," he unlocked the door and waited for her to follow, "Where do you think Simon would be?"

"I don't know," she took a few moments to think it out, "Maybe the car?"

"Let's go," he said, taking her arm and yanking her outside. She heard more screams fill the air, and adrenaline made her heart speed up.

Her brother dragged her through the streets, into the mayhem.

* * *

_Author Note: Thanks for the great feedback. Special thanks to Manicchef, InMySoul, Serenity Shadowstar, Iskierka, Keep-On-Smiling11, LongLive-MaxRide-TMI-THG-HP, and the Guest for reviewing. I'm glad I'm creeping people out a bit, and we'll see about Alec's murderer. ;D Thanks for reading._


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